The Sword of Vulcan
by MidnightGoddess2112
Summary: (Set in an alternate universe. Or something like that.) The Boxcar Children (plus Watch) have teamed up with Brutus, Cassius, Caesar, and Antony to find the Sword of Vulcan and use it to stop the Burrowers, an evil secret society bent on destroying the city of Athame. Just an idea I was trying out!
1. Murder in the (Un)locked Room

It was the middle of the day and cloudy when a tastefully [read: ostentatiously] dressed young woman raced into Cyril K. Wyatts's living room, screaming her head off.

"He's been murdered! Cyril's been murdered!" she sobbed. "I went to look for him and found him in the study, stabbed in the back with his own letter opener!"  
Pandemonium ensued. None of the guests particularly liked Mr. Wyatts, even though they'd all gone to his party, but the thought of a murder being committed under their very noses was extremely hysteria-inducing.

In the midst of the chaos of screaming ladies and men speechless with horror, only two people remained calm. These were a man in a loose-fitting purple suit and a boy of about fifteen, standing in the corner.  
"We must do what any good detective does first," said the boy thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. "We must visit the scene of the crime."  
"Good idea," the man answered. "If it turns out it's none of our business, we'll leave it for someone else to handle."  
"Right."

The scene of the crime was Wyatts's study, where its owner was still sitting at his desk. In fact, if it hadn't been for the letter opener sticking out of his back, one might have thought nothing was wrong.  
"It's definitely his," the boy said, examining the letter opener's handle. "It's got his monogram on it."  
"That man would put his monogram on everything he ever touched, if he could," the man muttered. "Cyril was expecting the killer," he went on, pointing to an alarm system on the wall. "The door was closed. Only he knew the password that would deactivate the system. Seems a little odd to have an appointment during a party, doesn't it?"  
"Unless he threw the party to cover up the appointment," the boy suggested. "Sorry. I know that doesn't make much sense."  
"It doesn't to me either. Why invite a bunch of people to your house at the same time you were going to meet with someone? It seems impolite. But then again, Wyatts was never known for his good manners. On the other hand, it _does_ kind of make sense. If I were Cyril, and I invited one person, my staff would know exactly who I was meeting with. If I invited multiple people, though, how would they know which one it was?"  
"They wouldn't."  
"Exactly." The man suddenly bent down and picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the floor. "Look at this!" He showed it to the boy.

The boy gulped. His pulse sped up. On the paper was a simple black upside-down triangle inside a circle, with a vertical line drawn through both of them. "The Burrowers."  
The man nodded grimly. "Turns out that this _is_ our business after all. Now let's get out of here-and these ridiculous party clothes-before the police show up."  
"Agreed."

As the two of them hurried back through the living room and out of the house, they passed the woman who'd found the body in the hallway, talking tearfully to two police officers.  
"Do you know her name?" the boy asked.  
"Fortunately, I do. Alisha Carpenter. We'll pay her a visit once she's had time to calm down."  
"Sounds good to me. First we need to report to headquarters, though."  
"You make it sound a lot more sophisticated than eight people and a dog in a bunker."  
"Well, what else do you want to call it?" the boy asked as they yanked off their fancy outfits. Underneath he was wearing a bright red and silver bodysuit.  
"Isn't that a little loud?" the man asked as he smoothed out a wrinkle from his own black and silver suit.  
"Probably," Henry Alden answered. "But I like it."  
"Whatever," Marcus Brutus said as the two of them slid around a corner and disappeared from sight.


	2. A Deadly Chase

Running for your life is not advised under the best of circumstances. Running for your life unarmed is even more strongly discouraged. Running for your life unarmed, outnumbered, and while being chased by a horde of Parukas intent on ripping you limb from limb, however, is by far the worst scenario of the three. And that is exactly what Violet Alden and Caius Cassius were doing only a few blocks away from where Cyril K. Wyatts's body had been found minutes earlier.

Not looking where she was going, Violet made a sharp left turn and nearly collided with a wall. She turned around and found a dozen yellow eyes glaring at her. The Parukas had her cornered.

_So this is what being "up against the wall" feels like,_ Violet thought, her back flat against the stone. She noticed that the large, bear-like creatures wore medallions on their leather collars engraved with a familiar symbol: an upside-down triangle inside a circle, with a line through both.  
_The Burrowers. Of course it's the Burrowers. Whenever something bad happens, you can usually blame it on them._ Where was Cassius? She hoped he was all right.

The largest Paruka stepped forward and snarled, clearly itching to carry out its master's orders. Violet felt its hot breath on her face as she noticed that, ironically, its black-and-purple fur matched her suit. If this beast was looking for a fight, it had come to the right place.

As it leaped for her throat, she lashed out, her boot connecting with its soft belly at the same time she punched it between the eyes. The beast whined and fled, but the others closed in. Violet didn't know what to do. She couldn't take on five at once!

Terror suddenly came into the Parukas' eyes. They scattered, then ran away. Violet blinked. What had just happened?  
A few minutes later, her question was answered. Cassius dropped in front of her, holding a lit ray gun. For some reason, just the glow from one was enough to scare off even the toughest Paruka.

"Where'd you get that?" she asked.  
"Later," he answered, breathing hard. "Let's get out of here."  
"Good idea."

To Violet's surprise, they were only a short walk from the underground bunker that had been built maybe decades earlier and now functioned as their headquarters. Cassius knelt on the pavement and pressed his finger against the hidden scanner. The trapdoor opened, and they descended into the earth.

Julius Caesar, Brutus, and Henry were sitting at the table in the "meeting room," as it was called. "_T__here_ you are," Henry said, relieved. "We were starting to get worried. What happened?"  
"A few Parukas," Cassius answered, pulling out a chair. "Nothing we couldn't handle."  
"A _few?_" Violet asked, sitting down. "More like six! And they all belonged to the Burrowers."  
"Speaking of the Burrowers," Brutus said grimly. "One or more of them murdered Cyril K. Wyatts less than two hours ago."  
"That guy whose party you were at?" asked Violet.  
Henry nodded. "Yeah, and it's probably a _good_ thing that he was murdered. We might have died of boredom otherwise."  
"How was he killed?" Cassius asked.  
"Stabbed in the back with his own letter opener," replied Brutus.  
"I wasn't aware anyone still used them."  
"Neither was I, but that's not the point. The point is that Wyatts was meeting with them and didn't want anyone to know about it. Obviously."  
"I wonder what they talked about," Caesar said.  
"Don't we all," Violet muttered. "Where's Benny?"  
"In the kitchen, with Watch," Henry rejoined, rolling his eyes. "As usual."  
Everyone rolled their eyes. Benny Alden's appetite was of legendary proportions.  
The kitchen door opened and Benny's head appeared. "I overheard what you said," he said. "I have a better question."  
"What's that?" Henry asked.  
"Where are Jessie and Antony?"


	3. The Professor's Last Words

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Jessie Alden asked as she caught up to Mark Antony.  
"No," he answered. "Do you have a better idea?"  
Jessie didn't. They stood on the Professor's over-sized front porch, staring nervously at the brass dragon's-head door knocker. At last, Antony raised the ring and dropped it. The resulting _clang _made them both jump and Jessie's ears ring. Slowly, the ancient doors creaked open, as if drawn back by an unseen hand.

Inside, the mansion was surprisingly well-lit. Red carpet covered every square inch of floor. A lone statue of a bug-eyed man sat on a pedestal against the wall, grinning crazily at them.  
Antony wasted no time and hurried straight down the hall. After a wary glance at the statue, Jessie followed him.

The Professor's lab was in the basement. Its owner was one of Athame's oldest residents, who had once possessed a brilliant mind but had since gone slightly downhill. He could always be counted on to give information when the price was right, though.  
"Well, well, look who's here." Quentin Guthrie, also known as the Professor, turned in his swivel armchair (his own invention) to face his visitors. "Young Antony, and young Jessie, no less. Come to bribe me again, have you?"  
"_We're_ not bribing anyone, Professor," Antony returned. "_You're_ the one committing highway robbery."  
The old man's eyes twinkled. "True, my lad, true. What is it you want?"  
"We want to know where the Burrowers are and what their plans are," Jessie answered.

Professor Guthrie leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin. "That," he said, "is a question I can only half answer. I know what that troublesome lot's goal is, but I don't know their whereabouts."  
"Half an answer's better than nothing," said Jessie.  
"A moment. Before I answer, would you be so kind as to hand me that bottle over there?"  
"Of course," Jessie said kindly, taking a half-full bottle of wine from the Professor's desk and handing it to him. Antony rolled his eyes behind their backs.

"Thank you, young lady," the Professor said, popping the cork and drinking deeply. Then his eyes widened. His mouth formed an _O_ of surprise. He grabbed his chest. And he slid off his chair and onto the floor.  
Realization hit everyone like an electric shock. _Poison_.

Antony dropped to his knees beside Guthrie. The older man stared up at him. "You cannot...help me," he gasped. "I'll let you have the information...free of charge."  
"What are the Burrowers trying to do?" Antony asked urgently.  
"They want to...destroy Athame...so they can use...the power source it was built over...for their own evil ends."  
"What can we do to stop them?"  
"There is...only one way. You must find...the Sword of Vulcan. It's hidden...on top of Mount Corona. I don't know...exactly where."  
"Good, thanks." Antony stood up, but the Professor feebly raised a hand. "There is...one more thing. In my desk there is...a wooden box set with...a purple stone. It contains...several gold medallions with...a charm on them. You must...give one to each member...of your company. They will...protect you...in times of danger. Good luck to you."  
And with that, Professor Quentin Guthrie's hand fell to the floor, his eyes closed, his chest shuddered, and he died.

Antony stared at the body on the floor, then slowly turned to face Jessie. She cowered against the wall, her eyes wide and frightened. He didn't know what to say to her, so he turned to the Professor's desk and began rifling through the drawers.  
"I think this is it," he said after a few minutes. He drew out a dark wooden box, whose lid was set with a large amethyst. Sure enough, it contained about ten gold medallions.

Jessie nodded, but didn't speak. They went back out of the house. Antony stopped a woman on the sidewalk. "Pardon me, ma'am," he said. "I thought you might like to know: Professor Guthrie is dead."  
The woman's eyes widened. She covered her mouth with her hand, nodded, and hurried away.

They had almost reached the bunker when Jessie stopped and looked up at Antony. She had been quiet for most of the walk, and he thought he saw tears in her eyes. "How do you stand it?" she asked in a small voice. "Watching people die? Do you ever get used to it?"  
Her question made Antony stop and think. He'd been a soldier for most of his life, and he'd seen quite a bit of death. But had he ever really gotten used to it? "No," he admitted. "You never really get used to it. But on the battlefield, you have to learn to live with it."

Jessie looked down at her shoes. Antony felt sorry for her. She was only thirteen years old. She shouldn't have to be exposed to such things so young.  
It had been a long time since he'd hugged anyone, but he couldn't stand _not_ comforting her. Antony reached out and pulled Jessie close, holding her tight, wishing he could keep her safe.


	4. Temptation

"Do we ever have news for you!" Antony said as he and Jessie arrived in the meeting room with the box. Watch, Jessie's terrier, bolted from the kitchen and covered his mistress with licks.  
"So do we," Brutus said. "You go first."  
"No, you go first."  
"No, _you_ go first."  
"No, you."  
"All right, all right...Our suspicions about Wyatts were correct. He arranged a meeting with the Burrowers today. And they stabbed him in the back. Literally."  
"With his own letter opener," Henry added. "Now you go."

Antony set the box on the table. "Cyril is no great loss," he said, "but I'm sorry to report that Professor Guthrie is no longer with us."  
"Oh, dear," Caesar said. "What happened?"  
Antony looked at his general. "Poisoned wine," he answered. "Fortunately, just before he died, he provided us with some vital information."  
"What did he tell you?" asked Cassius, who was standing in the corner.  
In a quiet voice, Antony related what the Professor had told them. When he was finished, everyone looked baffled.  
"I've never heard of the Sword of Vulcan," said Benny. "What is it?"  
"What power source?" Henry asked. "I never heard of Athame being built over any power source."  
"I don't know anything about any of this either," Antony snapped. "I just told you what I heard."  
Violet yawned. "Can we talk about this in the morning?" she asked sleepily. "I'm exhausted."  
"Good idea," Brutus said. "Let's all go get some sleep. I have a feeling we'll need it." He looked around at the other members of the Resistance, as Henry had taken to calling them. "Good night, everyone."

One by one, they departed for their bedrooms, until only Caesar and Antony remained.  
"Will she be okay?" Caesar asked. His eyes were on Jessie's retreating back.  
"Hard to say," Antony answered. "She just watched a man die in front of her. But yes, I think she'll be all right."  
Caesar sighed. "I hope so."  
Antony hesitated, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Have you come to care for the children, then?"  
"Yes, Antony, I have. I try not to judge people based on who their grandfather is, you know." He sounded wistful. "Besides, I never had any children of my own."  
"I know." Antony fell silent. He knew there was some bad blood between the children's grandfather, James Alden, and his dearest friend, though he didn't know what had happened.

Antony tried unsuccessfully not to yawn. It had been a long day, and it was getting late. He started walking toward the door, but Caesar called, "Antonius."  
Antony turned back. Caesar walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.  
"You have always been my most faithful supporter, Antonius," Caesar said evenly, looking into his eyes. "And I honor you for it."  
"It is an honor to serve you." Their faces were mere inches apart. Antony felt a mixture of nervousness, excitement, and temptation churning somewhere deep within him. "Th-thank you, sir." If Caesar would just lean a little closer...

Caesar took his hand off Antony's shoulder, stepped back, and smiled. "You're very welcome. Good night. Sleep well."  
"You, too," Antony managed. "Good night." He practically ran to the door. He didn't know how much longer he could keep hiding his true feelings.

* * *

**AN: Yes, one-sided CaesarxAntony. Don't worry, I promise there will be MUTUAL affection later on between...well, I can't tell you who, that would spoil it!  
Please, PLEASE review this, because I'd love to know if it's crap or not.**


	5. The Flashback

Lying in their respective beds, neither Brutus nor Henry could stop thinking about the same thing: the day they had met.

* * *

_Six months earlier_

The Alden children had been living quite happily and comfortably in their grandfather's house when their beloved housekeeper, Mrs. McGregor, had decided to retire. About a week after that, Grandfather announced he was going to meet a friend, went out the door, and never came back.  
A few days later, something happened that would change eight people's and one dog's lives forever.

"_Fire!_"  
Brutus could still remember the shrieking, crying voices around them as he stared up at the burning house, captivated. A few hours earlier, it had been an ordinary white house. Now it was a fireball, and without question a goner. He moved closer, unable to tear himself away.  
That's when he heard it.  
"Help!"  
It sounded like a boy's voice. And it sounded like it was coming from inside the fire.  
"Help! Help! _Somebody help!_"  
"There's someone in there!" Brutus yelled. But only his friends heard him.  
Cassius moved closer to Brutus. "There's someone in there? Are you sure?"  
But his question was answered for him. A face appeared at one of the windows. It was a teenage boy's face, looking terrified.

Brutus broke away from the crowd and started running across the lawn. Danger or no danger, he couldn't just stand there doing nothing.  
"Wait," Caesar said slowly. "Isn't that...?"  
But Cassius and Antony were also long gone. Caesar followed them as quickly as he could. It didn't matter if that boy was James Alden's grandson. He wasn't about to let him turn to ash either.

Fortunately, the doorway wasn't blocked. Brutus kicked the burning door in, and all four of them charged into the house. The first person they encountered was a small boy. His brown eyes, already wide with fear, grew even bigger. "Who are you?"  
"How about we rescue you first and introduce ourselves later?" Caesar asked, seizing the child's wrist and dragging him through the doorway. A dog shot from out of the smoke and followed them, barking loudly. Brutus, Cassius, and Antony ran upstairs.

There were five doors at the top of the stairs. One rattled on its hinges as whoever was on the other side struggled to open it. Disregarding the hot metal knob, Antony opened the door, and a girl fell into his arms. "Are you here to rescue us?" she gasped.  
"Yes!" Antony said. "Come with me." The pair disappeared downstairs.  
Every warning Henry had ever received about strangers flashed through his mind. But as of now, he had no choice if he wanted to stay alive. Henry followed them outside to the safety of the yard.  
But the ordeal wasn't over yet. "Violet!" Jessie screamed. "She was in her room when the fire started. I think she's still in there!"

Without a word, Cassius turned and ran back into the burning house.

There was so much smoke now he could barely see. Coughing, Cassius stumbled up the staircase, flames licking at him from all sides. The remaining four doors were now completely consumed. Through the orange haze, he saw a still figure on one of the beds. Ignoring the painful heat, he ran into what remained of the room and scooped up her limp body. Now to get out without becoming cinders.

Brutus's heart was in his mouth. To his and Henry's horror, they watched the house collapse. Tears came into Brutus's eyes, and they weren't just from the smoke.  
Then his heart leaped as a familiar figure slithered free of the inferno and deposited his precious cargo on the ground, then fell to his knees, still coughing.  
"Caius." Brutus's relief was almost tangible as he knelt in front of his oldest friend and threw his arms around him. "You're alive."  
Cassius gave him a weak smile. "Of course I am." His eyes drifted to the girl he'd just rescued. "Is she..."  
"Alive? Yes," Antony reported. "But it was close. Another few minutes and you would have been too late."

A few traces of wariness still lingered in Henry's mind, but he dismissed them. After all, the blond man had just risked his life to save his little sister. He turned to the dark-haired man and extended his hand. "I'm Henry Alden. Thank you for saving us."  
Brutus shook the hand, smiling. "Marcus Brutus. You're very welcome."  
"That was our home," Jessie whispered sadly, looking at what was left of it. "We don't have anywhere to go now."  
"Yes, you do!" Cassius said. "You can come with us."  
Benny got excited. "With you? Really?"  
"Really," Caesar said. Antony picked up Violet, and the nine of them headed for home.

* * *

Brutus was the closest thing Henry had had to a father figure ever since Grandfather's disappearance, and the one person he'd follow to hell and back without question. _I owe him my life. Wherever he goes, I go, _Henry thought as he nodded off.


End file.
